Night Terrors
by happyday girl
Summary: Preseries, Sam 6 Dean 10- After some trouble with school, John innocently buys Sam a clown doll. Suddenly weird things start to happen, things John can't explain-can he keep his family safe against a terror that evokes the fear of everyone? Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Hello!**

**I have another story for you! This doesn't mean I'm neglecting my other fics, oh no-I just couldn't get this idea out of my head!**

**This is kind of my version of 'Why Sam hates clowns so much' so I hope you like my theory!**

**I hope you enjoy this opening chapter!**

**Onwards...**

John Winchester hated his life.

It wasn't just one thing that made him hate his very existence; it was a succession of lots of little things that had built up during his lifetime that had made him hate his life-such as the fact that he woke up every single morning and went to bed every single night with intense feelings of revenge and want for justice spinning in his head, saturating his very being as he lay there.

It could also be the fact that he knew perfectly well that he was doing the worst job of being a father that had ever been seen; his boys didn't have a proper, full life, and it was all down to him.

He loved his children to bits, would crawl to the ends of the world to ensure their safety, happiness and protection-but why did it have to be so god damn hard?

He looked across at his eldest; Dean was lounging on the motel sofa, reading a comic. He smiled at the sight-he knew Dean was ok with everything. Okay, he was ten, but he knew what was happening. Kind of.

He looked down at his six year old; Sam was curled on his lap, his head lolling on his shoulder as he snored lightly. He gently ruffled his hair and looked at the clock; the boys had to be up for school in the morning.

He knew they needed an education when they where young, but he had no idea if they could carry it on once they got older-he needed them to help him hunting, to find the thing that had killed their mother. But he owed them some sort of education, after all, they where entitled to one.

'Come on tiger...bed time for you...' he whispered to the sleeping Sam, kissing the top of his head as he gently roused him; Sam was getting too big to be carried around now.

Sam looked up groggily, wiping his eyes with his closed fist as he smiled dopily up at his father.

'Hey daddy...' he said, before he closed his eyes again, before they snapped open to look for Dean.

'Come on you two, bed time' John smiled, walking over to Dean and gently moving his shoulder. Dean sighed and nodded, before walking over to Sam and taking his hand, gently leading his brother into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

'I'll be in to tuck you in in a minute.' John called, before clearing the fast food wrappers from the table and binning them to get rid of the smell. He walked over to the window and drew the curtains, shutting his family off from the outside world.

After a couple of minutes he saw the boys walk into their bedroom. He crossed the room to Dean and tucked his eldest in. He knew Dean really liked being cuddled and babied a little, no matter how much he protested. He kissed the top of his eldest's head tenderly before turning to Sam, who giggled as John made a face.

'Nighty-night time Sammy-o!' John chuckled, tucking Sam in tightly to make sure he stayed warm during the night.

'Night daddy.' Sam whispered, holding out his arms for a cuddle. John ducked down and obliged, breathing in the scent of his son and smiling. This was something that made him feel happy to be alive, no matter how crap his life was. His sons meant everything to him; he would be lost without them.

After Sam let him go he walked over to the door and flicked off the light.

'Night boys...' he whispered, before shutting the door with a snap.

* * *

><p>'Got your lunch money?'<p>

'Yes Dad.'

'Got Sam's lunch money?'

'Yes Dad.'

'...Got your pocket knife?'

'As always Dad!' Dean chuckled, rolling his eyes at his father.

'Good boy-look after your brother now.' John gave his son a hug as he opened the door of the Impala; the two boys getting out and walking back round to see John.

Sam looked so smart with his backpack that John thought he might burst with pride.

'Right-off you go now, I'll pick you up later.' He nodded, giving Sam a one armed squeeze as he lifted his arms up.

'Bye Daddy, have a nice day!' Sam smiled before running to keep up with Dean as he led him to the playground.

'You too!' John called back, chuckling, before driving off to the store.

He spent around an hour there, going through all the aisles, making sure he had enough of everything so Sam wouldn't pout and Dean wouldn't grumble. He put in double helpings of their favourite Donuts-well; he could have a treat now and again, couldn't he?

After he had finished the food shop he made his way to the clothes area, picking up some more Jeans and T-shirts from them all; their other stuff was dirty and ripped.

He was about to walk to the checkouts when his phone went off, the deep tones of 'Smoke on the Water' bursting into the store.

He didn't recognise the number as he answered. 'Hello?'

'Hello, is this John Winchester?'

'Depends who you are'

'My name is Miss Greene; I'm your son Sam's teacher- I was wondering if you could come into the school for a meeting?'

'What, now?' John asked, worry spearing his mind.

'If that's no trouble-nothing bad had happened, we just need...a little talk about Sammy.'

'It's Sam, and ok, sure-I'll be there ASAP' he agreed, shutting the phone before the woman could answer.

He looked to the checkout, and grimaced at the cue. He looked down at his trolley and shrugged, abandoning it in the middle of the aisle.

'What have you done Sammy?' he muttered to himself as he walked back to the Impala.

* * *

><p>He could tell by the tenseness in the principles office that this wasn't a meeting about being late or poor homework.<p>

He spied Sam sitting on a large leather chair; his young son was dwarfed by the blackness of it.

'Sammy?' John whispered, wanting to know Sam was ok. He felt better when his son nodded and attempted a smile, before a very scared look crossed his features.

He turned to the principle, a batty-looking woman who had horn-rimmed glasses and a tweed jacket on. John prided himself at not chuckling at her.

'What's this about?' he said instead, frowning at the other woman in the room-it had to be Miss Greene.

'Mr Winchester, please sit down.' The Principle said. It wasn't an offer.

John slid into the chair next to Sam, suddenly feeling quite small despite himself. Why did all the scary looking women always make Principle?

'Mr Winchester-'

'Call me John.'

'_Mr Winchester_-is everything ok at home?'

'Why shouldn't it be?'

'You tell me.'

'You're the teacher here.'

The principle sucked in breath before replying. 'I want to know why your son is so handy with his fists, Mr Winchester-I've had to send one of the other children home with a split lip and a nasty bruise on his head, thanks to your son.' She said, nodding her head sharply in Sam's direction.

John looked across to his son with a questioning look on his face.

'Sam?' he said, nodding for his son to know it was ok to speak.

Sam's eyes were wide when he replied. 'They were mean to me! They called me names!' he pouted, eyes brimming with tears.

John desperately wanted to envelope his son in a hug, but he also knew he needed to be punished for what he had done. 'Sammy, what have I said about hitting other boys?' he asked, looking sternly at his son.

'They said I didn't have a home! They said I wasn't normal because I didn't have a mommy...' the tears fell now. John knew Sam didn't fully understand why he didn't have a mother; he had told him that she had died, but not how.

'Oh Sam...' John said, and without looking at the principle he stood up, crossed to Sam and scooped his son up in a hug, letting him cry on his shoulder.

With Sam still latched onto is chest he turned to the principle. 'I'll talk to him, he's only a kid-it won't happen again, I promise.' He said, relieved when the old bat nodded and flicked her head at the door.

'He can leave now-but I hope he comes back to school in the morning a changed boy, okay?' she said sternly at John.

'Yes, ok' John nodded, before he put Sam down and held his hand as they walked out.

* * *

><p>'Come on Sammy-which one do you want?' John asked, feeling his legs go numb through lack of use-he had taken Sam to the toy store for a pick-me up toy, to make him feel better after what had happened at school. He wasn't rewarding his behaviour, but he hoped Sam would realise what he had done wrong, and he wanted to get the toy because he saw how upset he was.<p>

He looked down the toy aisle and saw Dean mooching by the comics, tucking one after the other under his arm as he looked. Damn this trip was going to be expensive.

'Chosen yet?' he looked back down at his youngest, smiling at Sam's frown as he looked over all the toys.

'I'll have...that one!' he finally said, smiling and pointing to a toy on the shelf.

John looked in his direction and crinkled up his nose-Sam had chosen a large clown doll.

He took it off the shelf and inspected the box- "_I'm Mr Chuckles-Push the button on my hand and hear me laugh!"_

He held it up for Sam. 'You're sure this is what you want?' He said, trying not to show his distaste for his son's choice.

'Yeah! Yeah! Please Daddy!' Sam cried, cheering as John handed the toy to him.

'Ok...' John said, before turning to Dean. He put his hands on his hips and shook his head at his son-Dean was holding around fifteen comic books, and those things didn't come cheap.

'You can pick five now, and before we leave you can get another stack.' John chuckled, watching Dean go back to the comic stand to choose the ones to keep.

When both boys were ready John paid for their stuff, and as they were walking back to the Impala, Sam clutching Mr Chuckles happily in his arms, Dean already reading one of his comics, none of the Winchesters could ever have predicted the effect that this day would have on them in the near future.

**What's going to happen next?**

**Find out in the next chapter!**

**Thank you so much for reading, please review!**

**Xxx **


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello!**

**I know this has been a long time coming, but I've finally got round to updating this story! ^^ I hope it's been worth the wait! This story is going to be quite creepy, I would even go so far as to say scary, but I hope you'll all enjoy it!**

**Onwards...**

Sam bounded straight into the living room of the motel as soon as John unlocked the door, and planted himself cross-legged on the carpet. John watched as his youngest grabbed the doll's box from the plastic carrier bag and flung it across the room, leaving only himself and Mr Chuckles on the carpet.

'Can you take Mr Chuckles out of his box, he wants to come out!' he cried, reaching out with the box and pressing it into John's palm.

John looked uneasily at the doll. 'Couldn't you have picked an action man or something-hell wouldn't you have been happier with a Barbie?' he asked, before slowly proceeding to unpick the plastic that held the clown in place. The clown itself was made out of cloth, with hard stuffing making up its body, but its head was a hard plastic, with red hair, a white face and red lips in an upside down-smile position normally associated with clowns.

'No dad!' Laughed Sam, shaking his head. 'Barbie's are for girls! Besides, I like clowns, they're funny!' he said, grinning like a Cheshire cat when John handed back Mr Chuckles, the clowns red hair and white painted face grinning up at him as he looked at it. 'Isn't he amazing?' Sam whispered, his eyes wide.

John exchanged a look with Dean; his eldest son had curled up on the small battered sofa, a comic on his lap. 'Sammy, it is a little creepy, don't you think?' Dean asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

'No! Mr Chuckles isn't creepy!' Sam looked aghast at his brother's comment, before looking quickly down at his clown doll. 'Don't worry Mr Chuckles, they didn't mean it...' he muttered, before hugging the cloth doll tight against his chest.

Dean rolled his eyes and looked back at his comic; he knew that Sam would soon lose interest in the thing, and it would be flung out like the rest of the trash when the time came for them to move on.

John shook his head before bending down to ruffle his son's hair. 'Ok buddy-look after him then.' He said, before walking into the small kitchen to get the boy's their dinner.

'I will Dad, I promise.' Sam said earnestly, using his hands to nod Mr Chuckles' head as well as his own.

'Good boy.' John called from the kitchen.

* * *

><p>Dean watched his brother play with the clown, but just watching it made his flesh creep. He didn't know why but the doll made him feel uneasy-but if Sam liked it and was happy, then he was too.<p>

It was now late evening, and after John had served up dinner he had sat down to read them a couple of stories before bed time; Dean was in his own bed, and Sam and Mr Chuckles were tucked up in Sam's bed as well.

'...The Big Bear smiled and hugged Little Bear tight, and they lived happily every after.' John whispered, before quietly shutting the book and peering in the darkness to see if his boys were asleep.

Dean was fast asleep, his face turned into the pillow, both arms gripping it tight as he slept. Sam was asleep too, his hands clasped around Mr Chuckles. John looked down at the doll, frowning slightly-for some unexplainable reason, he just hated the sight of that damned doll, and he had only bought it hours earlier.

He gently unhooked it from his son's grasp and turned it over in his hands as he headed back to the living room, where he turned the lamp on to get a proper look at it.

The doll was actually quite heavy, especially the head, which seemed to have been made so it could turn its neck if Sam wanted to move it. As he poked and prodded the clown doll, his heart became more settled, and he began to feel a little better about it-he didn't know why he felt so uneasy around it, he just did.

'...Dad?' came a little voice from the bedroom, and John nearly jumped out of his skin. He laughed breathily and looked down at Mr Chuckles one last time. 'Nothing to be scared of...' he muttered, before walking back into the darkness of the bedroom and across to Sam's bed.

'Hey Buddy, didn't mean to wake ya...I just wanted to take a look at Mr Chuckles, that's all.' He whispered, rubbing Sam's shoulder and smiling.

'Is he ok?' Sam muttered, sleep clogging his voice slightly.

'Who, Mr Chuckles? He's fine kid; you can have him back now...' John replied, producing the doll and handing it to his son, who immediately tucked it under his arm, smiling.

'Night Dad.' Sam whispered, smiling up at John.

John gave him arm a gentle squeeze. 'Night Night Sammy-o.' He smiled, before getting off the bed and walking towards the door.

'Dad?' he heard Sam call out in the darkness.

'Yeah Buddy?' he replied.

'Can you turn the lamp on?'

'Why?'

'It's dark in here.'

'...But you're not afraid of the dark Sammy.'

'Mr Chuckles is though, please dad?'

John tried hard not to sigh, but he did shake his head in the dark room. 'Ok, but just for tonight, ok?' he said, before flicking on the switch that turned on the small lamp beside Sam's bed.

'Better?'

'Mr Chuckles says thank you Dad.'

'Ok...well then your welcome...Mr Chuckles.' John whispered, before walking out the door once more, intent on getting himself a nice cold beer to research the next case he was going to take.

As he closed the door to his son's room with a small snap, he failed to notice the chink of disappearing light flashing over Mr Chuckles' face as it crossed the room.

What he also didn't notice, was the doll's head following that chink of light, until its head had turned right from where it laid on Sam's chest, to facing the door that John had just closed.

**What's going to happen next? Find out in the next chapter!**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope it was creepy enough a start for you ^^**

**Thank you for reading!**

**Please review!**

**X **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello! Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, alerted and put this on their favourites already-I get so much support from you guys ^^ Thank you.**

**This chapter is-hopefully- going to be another creepy one, so I hope you enjoy!**

**Onwards...**

'Come on boys-time to get up for school!' John called as he passed Sam and Dean's door on the way to the kitchen. He had spent the night reading sheaths of paper and research on his latest case, and as a result was suffering with a blistering headache, so he wanted the trip to school to be as painless as possible.

Dean rolled out of his bed and bounded to the bathroom, before quickly putting his clothes on and racing for breakfast; Sam, however, wasn't as enthusiastic-he pulled his blanket up above his head and huddled into his pillow, hugging Mr Chuckles tight to his chest.

After a while, Dean peeked his head around the door, a frown on his face as he walked over to his younger brother and gently pulled back his covers.

'Sammy? You ok?' he asked, tilting his head sideways so he could see him better.

Sam nodded and suppressed a giggle, before huddling down more into his bed. 'I'm fine Dean-but I'm staying home today!' he said brightly, wide brown eyes staring up at his brothers.

Dean frowned once more. '...How come?' he muttered, sitting down on the edge of Sam's bed.

'Mr Chuckles says that I don't have to go to school today-he wants me to play with him instead!' Sam said, a grin on his face.

'Uh Huh...' Dean nodded, before turning and walking back out the door. 'Dad! Sam says he's not going to school.' He called, before looking back into the room at his brother, a slight smile on his face.

John walked into the room, and stood before Sam's bed, his hands on his hips. 'Come on buddy, time for school-I've got your favourite cereal already in the bowl, don't let it go soggy.' He said, looking down at his youngest.

Sam meekly shook his head, suppressing another giggle after stealing a look at the doll in his arms. 'Mr Chuckles says that I can have the day off and no one can say I can't.' He said defiantly, before peering up at his father to gauge his reaction.

John had to suppress a chuckle. Kids and their imaginations these days... 'Listen buddy-Daddy says you have to go to school, the law says you have to go to school. You can play with Mr Chuckles afterwards, okay?' he said, before pulling the blankets off Sam's bed, revealing the young boy and the doll; Mr Chuckles' eyes were glinting in the morning sun.

'Right, now get up Sammy.' John said, holding out his arms. Sam lay back for a while, occasionally peering down at the doll wedged in his arms, before he pulled the doll close and whispered quickly into it's face-after a while he looked back at John.

'Ok Daddy, Mr Chuckles says that's fine!' he said brightly, before hopping out of bed, carefully laying Mr Chuckles on the bed, and dashing off to the bathroom.

John looked down at the doll with distaste, before walking back into the kitchen to pour Sam a fresh bowl of cereal.

* * *

><p>'Come on Sammy, leave that damn doll alone now-we gotta go!' John called from the door, rolling his eyes as he spied Sam gently laying the doll on his bed.<p>

'You done?' he called again, shrugging down at Dean, who chuckled.

'Almost, I just gotta tuck him in!' came his reply, causing John to grin.

Moments later, and Sam was with them, his backpack slung on his shoulders, but a worried look on his face. 'What's up?' Dean whispered as John led them outside to the car.

Sam shrugged, sniffing. 'What if Mr Chuckles gets lonely, being in the room all by himself?' he asked, his wide eyes filling with tears.

'Aw, he'll be fine Sammy-He doesn't really feel anything!' Dean chuckled, expecting Sam to laugh along with him. But Sam didn't find it funny at all; the little boy stopped stock still, a glare on his young features. 'Mr Chuckles does too feel things! He's got feelings just like me!' he shouted, a pout on his small lips.

'Whoa, relax Sammy.' Dean frowned, putting a hand on his shoulder. 'He'll be fine-I promise.'

'What do you know?' Sam scoffed, before walking ahead and leaving a dumbstruck Dean looking confused in his wake.

John frowned as Sam sauntered into the back of the car. 'Everything ok buddy?' he asked, but Sam only shrugged in reply. Dean climbed into the back seat, a mildly hurt look on his face.

'What's happened between you two?' John asked, looking from one boy to the other in his mirror.

'Nothing Dad.' Dean answered, before twisting in his seat so he could look out the window.

'Well, ok...' John muttered, turning the car around and onto the main road.

The journey to school was completely silent, something that unnerved John a lot-normally the boys would be chatting (or indeed bickering) but today there was nothing.

'So...what are you doing today then Sammy?' John tried, but again all he got was a shrug from his youngest. He peered in his mirror at Dean; his face was unreadable, as usual.

He shrugged and carried on driving, before turning into the school road and parking.

He turned right around in his seat. 'Right, if there really is nothing wrong-have a good day boys.' He said, smiling at each of them.

'Yeah...' Sam sighed.

'Ok Dad.' Dean said in a monotone, before he leaned forwards and pressed the side of his face into John's cheek. 'Have a good day.' He muttered, before getting out the car and slamming the door behind him.

'Hey!' John unwound his window, frowning at Dean as he walked back towards him. 'Forgotten something?' he asked, before nodding towards Sam, the younger boys eyes wide at being left out.

'Oh, yeah...come on Sammy.' Dean said, waiting for Sam to get out the car.

As soon as Sam was out, he ran straight towards his brother and gave him a hug. 'I'm sorry Dean.' He said, his voice muffled by Dean's chest.

'S'okay Sammy...' Dean chuckled, patting his back.

'Come on guys, or you'll be late for register!' John said, a smile on his face as he watched Dean lead his brother up to the school.

'Bye Daddy, have a good day!' Sam called, before they turned the corner and were lost in the throngs of other children.

John grinned and turned on the ignition again; he was going to drive back to the motel, get some more research done before they skipped town-he had to find new schools for the boys as well, so that needed some planning.

Ten minutes later and he was back. The wind had started to get up and it was beginning to rain slightly; large grey clouds that had previously only dotted the sky now filled the open expanse of blue.

John let himself in and flung his coat on the sofa, before turning to the small table that held his research-but as he did he got the shock of his life.

Mr Chuckles was sat on his desk.

'What the...' he whispered, trying to fight down the uncharacteristic panic in his chest-he was a seasoned hunter, he shouldn't be scared of stupid clown dolls...

But how did it get there? He had watched Sam tuck it into bed, for God's sake... Maybe Sammy had moved it just before he went out the door, when he wasn't looking?

Whatever the reason, John mused, he shouldn't be scared of the damn thing... He picked it up and walked into Sam's room, propping it up on his shoulder.

The thought did cross his mind of whether he should just chuck it-but what if it was Sam, pretending it could move? He was fond of it... he'd keep an eye on it, he figured, but it was probably his hunter's imagination going haywire.

He eyed the clown once more, before walking out the door and shutting it with a snap...

As he turned on the radio to drown out the eerie silence, he didn't hear the sound of repeated chuckling coming from inside the bedroom, reverberating against the walls...

**Oooh what's going to happen next? Find out in the next chapter!**

**These chapters are going to get progressively scarier and creepier-I hope ^^ so I really hope your all going to enjoy the ride!**

**Please review!**

**X **


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello! **

**In this chapter Dean gets a first hand experience of Mr Chuckles...what will happen?**

**Onwards...**

The motel door was opened with a crash of wood against wall; Sam ran into the room, before tearing into the bedroom with huge smile on his face. 'Mr Chuckles! I've missed you!' he cried, before shutting the bedroom door, leaving John and Dean to glance at each other.

'Well, Good afternoon Sammy.' John chuckled, before dumping some shopping bags on the table. Dean grinned and looked towards the door. 'He's been talking about that damn doll all day...' he said, before shaking his head and reaching for a comic.

'Really?' John replied, frowning into the fridge where he was stacking food cartons. 'What has he been saying?' He'd never seen Sam so obsessed about a toy before, it was quite unusual for him to be so obsessive about it.

'Not much, just that he missed it, and he was looking forward to talking to him.' Dean said, casually flicking through the comic as he talked. 'I'm sure he's fine though dad.' he added; he knew that he would have a frown on his face, that was John's way.

'Yeah, I'm sure he is as well...' John said, pretending to flick away the concerns.

He knew of some hunters that were working nearby, maybe they knew something about this sort of thing-not that he thought it was anything bad; he just wanted to be sure.

'Hey Dean, would you look after Sammy for a second whilst I grab some take out?' he asked, already walking to the door and grabbing his coat.

'But Dad, you've already been...' the door shut with a bag. '...Shopping.' Dean finished with a sigh, before shaking his head.

He looked around the silent room, his eyes finally coming to a rest on the bedroom door just as it opened. 'Heya Sammy.' He smiled, watching as Sam stood in the doorway looking at him.

But as he looked, he realised that something wasn't quite right. Sam's eyes were just a bit too wide, a bit too glassy...

'Sammy? What's up?' he asked, now standing up and walking towards his little brother. He stopped dead when Sam slowly shook his head.

'Mr Chuckle's says I can't play with you.' He said, his eyes still too wide for his face.

'W-Why?' Dean asked, a very dark feeling settling in his stomach.

'He just wants to play with me.' came his reply.

Dean edged closer, ignoring Sam as he shook his head again. 'Can I have a look?' he asked, holding out his hand for the doll.

Sam looked down at Mr Chuckles before lifting it to his face, where he seemed to listen to it speak to him.

Dean looked uneasily around; everything had suddenly gone very cold, but also the feeling that time had somehow stopped became apparent to him.

After a while, he watched as Sam looked up again. 'Mr Chuckles says no.'

'Oh. Well, ok-but you have to tell me Sammy, are you ok? Do you like Mr Chuckles saying this to you?' he asked, concern coursing through his veins.

Immediately, Sam nodded, a wide smile on his face that Dean knew was far from real as he looked down at Mr Chuckles again. 'Oh yes! I love Mr Chuckles, he's so cool!' he grinned, before darting forwards and hugging his big brother.

Dean accepted the hug; he just didn't want to let go. He knew something wasn't right.

'Dean? Dean, you're hurting me...'

'Sorry Sammy, I'm sorry...' Dean let him go, ruffling his hair as Sam walked back into the bedroom.

'Me and Mr Chuckles are gonna go play some more.' He said, before shutting the door with a snap.

'Okay...' Dean replied to the closed door. He slowly walked forwards until he was in front of it, before putting his ear to the wood and listening intently through it...

Giggling...Sam's giggling...that was all he could hear...

He exhaled and stood back. Nothing seemed to be wrong-why did he find the doll so creepy?

The motel door suddenly banged open, making Dean jump out of his skin with a small cry.

'Hey...Hey, what's wrong?' John asked, dumping the food on the table and coming to his son's side.

'Nothing, nothing...' Dean said, looking back at the bedroom door.

'Everything ok with Sammy?' his father asked, rubbing his shoulder, before walking back into the kitchen.

'Yeah, he's fine, just playing with that stupid doll...' he said, before walking back at the door and opening it. Sam looked up from his bed, Mr Chuckles in his arms. 'Dinner time.' Dean said, before leaving the door open and walking back to the table.

'Coming!' Sam yelled, before carefully placing the clown propped up on his pillow, his face facing the wall nearest Dean's bed.

Sam hopped off the bed and ran to the table, where he sat, as happy as could be. Dean smiled; glad his brother was finally out without that damn doll.

His smile soon faded when he cast an offhand look into the open bedroom door-as if time had stopped, he watched as Mr Chuckles' head began to slowly move. Its neck creaked until its painted face finally settled down, facing the older Winchester, and facing directly out of the room.

Dean didn't know whether to scream or faint. His eyes wide, a frozen smile melting on his face, he slowly turned his own head until his eyes settled on John.

'Dad? I don't feel very well...' he said faintly.

John looked up immediately, shock rising through his chest. 'Jesus Dean, why are you so pale, you look like you've seen a ghost!' he said, standing up and holding a shaking Dean steady.

'Come on, let's get you into bed-'

'No! I don't wanna go in there!' Dean shouted, before he caught sight of Sam's frightened face.

'I mean...I'm not tired, I just feel a bit sick...' he managed a queasy smile at his brother, who offered a similarly small smile back.

'Ok...why don't you go read another comic on the sofa, and you two can sleep with me tonight if you want?'

'Can Mr Chuckles come too?' Sam asked.

John looked over his shoulder at Dean just as he reacted-Dean suddenly blanched, his face paling even more.

'Uh, no...just the three of us, eh? We could watch movies, eat popcorn...sound ok?' John grinned, ruffling Sam's shoulder.

'Ok...but he won't be happy...' Sam said, biting his bottom lift.

'Well, Mr Chuckles will just have to deal with it.' Dean snapped, before he sat down on the sofa and grabbed a comic.

Sam cast a forlorn look at the doll on his bed. 'Mr Chuckles doesn't like you Dean-he's staring at the wall cos he thinks your mean...' he muttered.

'Huh?' Dean said, trying to ignore the beginning of the statement as he stood up and walked to the door-The doll was now facing the same position that it had been before he had moved...did it move after all?

'What's wrong Dean?' Sam asked, gripping his brother's hand in his own. Dean tightening his grip slightly, happy to feel something real, something he couldn't imagine.

'N-Nothing...nothing...' he tried to smile, tried to quell the strange feeling in his stomach. Maybe he had imagined the doll moving? He did have bad feeling about the damn thing...maybe his mind had played a trick on him?

'Can you read one of your comics to me before movies?' Sam asked, looking up at his brother with child-like eyes.

'Sure Sammy!' Dean grinned, before they both ran back to the sofa, all thoughts of moving clown pushed far out of his mind as they enjoyed their time together.

**Poor Dean, is he seeing things?**

**So, as I've said, things are going to get a little scarier in the later chapters-they will be coming soon!**

**Please review!**

**x**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello! I'm sorry this chapter is so late-RL again (mainly I failed my 2****nd**** driving test) but here is the next chapter! This is going to get a lot scarier, so I hope you like it!**

**Enjoy...**

John woke up the next morning to find Dean with a hold on his arm so tight his fingers were going numb. He looked groggily across to the window; the Saturday morning sun filtered through the yellowing curtains. He was glad it was the weekend; he could finally get some time with his boys.

He looked at Sam, smiling when he saw that his youngest was snuggled up to Dean, the top of his head barely visible over the blanket.

John sighed contentedly, his eyes roving across the room lazily, just waiting till his boys woke up.

He stopped smiling in a heartbeat, his own heart dropping like a stone as he saw what was sat in the middle of the bed.

Staring out from black beady eyes was Mr Chuckles. The doll seemed to be supporting itself on the bed; there was no one around to hold it still.

John realised he had been holding his breath when his vision went cloudy; he let out it slowly, peering at the Doll with cautious eyes. How the hell did it get there? He had told Sam to leave it in the bedroom-he had seen the look on Dean's face when Sam had suggested the doll get in the bed.

'Dad?' came a groggy voice from beside him. His face shot down and he smiled as Dean stretched, a slightly confused look on his face. 'Hey sleepy head...good morning.' He said softly.

'Morning...what were you looking at?' Dean frowned, looking forward on the bed.

'Dean I-'he started, not wanting to see the look on his son's face again, but he needn't have bothered-the doll was gone.

'What the...' he muttered under his breath, before tearing back the covers and grabbing his dressing gown.

'Where are you going?' Dean asked, the boy looking sideways at a still sleeping Sammy.

'Stay with your brother, I'll be right back...' John promised, before opening the bedroom door and stepping out in the living area-the fact that he had to open the door unnerved him...if he had to open the door, how did the doll get in or out?

He silently crossed to the boys bedroom and peered inside, air once again escaping him as he looked onto Sam's bed-the doll was laying on it in the position that Sam had placed it the previous night. Did he imagine it in his bedroom?

He breathed in deeply and walked in. He sat on Sam's bed and picked up the doll, shaking it for no reason that he could think of. He knew he was just starting in the world on hunting, and still had so much to learn-but he had no idea what was going on...was he overreacting, imaging things that weren't there? It was just a clown-clowns never hurt nobody; there was no reason to be scared of em, but...

'No, everything's ok...' John muttered, placing the doll back down on the bed and standing up.

'Mr Chuckles!' he jumped as Sam bounded into the room and grabbed up the doll, the little boy hugging it to his chest.

John forced a smile as his youngest smiled broadly at him. 'Oh I've missed you!' he cooed to the clown, and together the two of them bounded into the living room.

John sighed and ran a hand down his face. He had no idea what was going on, and therefore he had no clue what to do.

He figured he'd leave it a couple more days, just to see what happened-if anything else should happen, the doll was gone, end of story. If everything filtered out, he would put it down to tiredness and move on.

He fixed on another smile as he walked out the bedroom, shutting the door with a snap.

* * *

><p>'Come on Dean, come play!'<p>

'No.'

'Please?'

'I am not playing with that clown.'

'But Mr Chuckle's wants you to play-he says you're a meanie if you don't.'

'Well I don't care what a stupid doll thinks.' Dean snapped, glaring at Sam, who was on the carpet in front of him.

He shook his head in anger as Sam leant in as if to talk to the damn thing. 'Sammy, it's not real!' he shouted, feeling panic rise in his chest.

'Yes he is! He says he can hurt you if you don't play!'

'Oh yeah! Well let's see how he likes this-'Dean jumped up and swiped the doll from Sam's arms, and, despite Sam's cries of protest, flung the clown at the wall. The doll hit the wall with a dull clunk, and hit the floor with a bang.

Sam turned to his brother, livid. 'DEAN! HOW COULD YOU!' he yelled, before running to the aid of the doll, picking him up cuddling him close.

'I didn't-I...' Dean stammered, all of a sudden the most scared he had ever been in his young life. The Doll seemed to stare at him from beneath his brother's arm; Sam himself seemed overcome with anger. 'We just wanted you to play! Why couldn't you play?' he screamed, before turning and running into the bedroom, slamming the door shut.

'Sam! Sam come back-I'm sorry!' Dean yelled, his voice cracking in terror as he ran to the door and tried to open it, but something had jammed it shut-Sam was sitting in front of it.

'Go away Dean, we don't wanna play with you anymore!' came a high voice from behind the door.

'Sam, you open the door right now!' Dean begged, banging on the wood with his palm.

His cries were met with silence...well, not quite silence. Dean frowned as he heard muttering coming from the other side of the door, and he knelt down and put his ear to it to hear better.

'No...I can't do that...yeah but...he's my brother...I just wanted him to play...I don't want to...' he heard, but he never heard anyone else say anything for him to answer to.

'S-Sammy?' he called, this time gently knocking on the door.

All of a sudden, the door came flying open and something knocked right into Dean, flinging him off his feet and onto his back-he realised it was Sammy, and that he was hugging him tight.

'I'm sorry Dean, I wont be mad at you again-please don't go anywhere, please!' Sam cried, tears and sobs obstructing his voice.

'What? Sammy, who says I'm going anywhere?' Dean asked, pulling Sam free and looking him straight in the eye.

Sam shuddered and turned away. 'Nobody...' he said, avoiding his gaze.

'Sam-who says I'm going anywhere?' Dean repeated.

Sam sniffed and nodded his head back to where Mr Chuckles lay on the floor-the doll was in a place that looked like Sam had thrown it in...fear?

'M-Mr Chuckles said that?' Dean asked, fear once again clenching his chest.

Sam nodded, before laying his head in Dean's neck and manually placing Dean's arms around him.

That was how John found them when he came back from the research he was doing in the bedroom ten minutes later-Sam sitting in Dean's lap, his eldest rocking the youngest, and Dean staring at the clown doll with wide, fearful eyes.

This had to stop.

**What will the clown do next? Find out the in the next chapter!**

**I hope this is scary enough for you all-I'm really enjoying writing it all!**

**Please review!**

**X **


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello! I have another scary chapter for you...I had to channel my inner Stephen King for this one, so I hope you enjoy it ^^**

**Enjoy!**

That night, after John had put Sam and Dean back in his room, read a book with them and sat with them as they drifted off, the two of them snuggled so tight together it was hard to determine where Dean ended and Sam began, he grabbed a box from the back of the Impala and sat down in the living room with a glass of Whiskey.

He opened the dusty top of the brown box, and, after the dust motes had stopped flowing through the weak light of the table top lamp, he carefully lifted a large book out of it. He took a gulp of his drink before setting the glass down; he moved the box away and placed the leather-bound book on his lap. It was entitled 'Inanimate object exorcisms'-John had to admit he had chuckled at the name when he had first read it, but the time for humour and wit was now long gone-things had gone too far now.

He remembered with a sharp feeling in the pit of his stomach the moment he realised that something was very wrong with that doll-it was the way Sam was just clinging to Dean, not wanting to let go for love nor money; it was also how Dean had seemed to never wanting to release his brother either. He knew the love the brothers had for each other was the strongest bond he had ever seen, but he hadn't seen such a strong example of it since before Mary passed.

He had to protect his boys, and if this was the only way, then so be it.

He opened the book and flicked through the cracked, dry, yellowing pages of the pages, scanning the words for any information or ritual that could help.

A noise stirred him after about half an hour-it was a subtle noise, like a mouse skittering across a floor, and John wouldn't have paid it any attention hadn't he heard the noise that accompanied it soon after. It was a slow, drawn out chuckle that made the hair on the back of John's neck stand up on end.

He tensed in his seat, the book now discarded on the sofa next to him. He stood slowly, letting the sound of the laugh reverberate through the whole room. He cast a look to the bedroom; the boys were both still asleep. Good.

He crossed to the boy's bedroom and silently opened the door. The noise got marginally louder, and as John's eyes settled on Sam's bed, he knew what he was going to find. Mr Chuckles was sat on Sam's pillow, arms and legs crossed, head titled slightly to the side. Like he was expecting John to come.

'What are you?' John whispered, feeling a bubble of hatred rise up and burst in his throat. 'What are you doing here?'

The doll said nothing. As John watched, it started to do something so grotesque it made him shudder. The doll titled its head back the other way, its black eyes peering at the older man standing dumbstruck in the light of the living room. Its arms unfolded and sat, limp, by its side.

John dared a look back to the door of his bedroom-no movement.

He looked back for the doll, his heart beating in his mouth, a faint moan of fear escaping his lips-the doll wasn't on the bed. It was sat, cross-legged, right in front of him, its head titled to look straight in his eyes.

John backed away despite himself, but couldn't seem to stop looking into the black eyes of the Doll, the demon, the ghost-whatever it was.

He heard a small cough from the other room, and in the split second of one of his child's cough, he knew what he had to do.

He stepped forwards and grabbed the doll with both strong hands, curling the doll up like a piece of rubbish. He ran to the door and flung it open; a torrent of rain was brought in by the wild wind, soaking him to the bone.

As he stepped back involuntarily, the doll began to laugh. Even under his heavy, determined hands, the demonic chuckles of the Clown still resonated, sending all the nerves in his body into haywire.

He ran into the rain, making sure the door was kept open so he could get back in. He ran to the nearest green area, which happened to be an expanse of grass right in front of the motel suites.

He cursed into the sky when the thought of a shovel crossed his mind. No time now. Use something else.

He got down in the mud on his hands and knees, the doll kept close under him-he wouldn't take any chances.

With his bare hands he dug the hole, forcing out the harder soil and scooping out the mud. The rain mingled with frightened and angry tears, causing him to rub mud in his eyes and around his face as he wiped them away with shaking hands.

Thunder crashed above him, the lightning making him jump as he worked. After what seemed like hours the trench was ready.

John kneeled and pulled the Doll from beneath him-it had stopped chuckling, but was now staring at him with those black eyes; it was if they were animated with pure malice.

'Go to hell.' John growled, and he flung the toy into the mud.

The brown liquid spattered over the clown costume, obscuring its face as the rain pelted down. Without a second look John began pushing the mud and soil back into place, until all that was left was a mound. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, or out of place.

John stood and wiped mud into his Jeans, before wiping his eyes one final time. He looked at the mound of discarded dirt and smiled. Everything was going to go back to normal now.

He turned and walked slowly back into the motel. He crossed the room to the sofa, looking down at the book as he did so. He picked it up and turned it over, before putting it back into the box and kicking it under the sofa.

He went into the bathroom and undressed, drying himself off with a towel. He looked into the bathroom mirror and smiled at his reflection. Now the boys could sleep easy. And so could he.

After he had dressed into some pyjamas he entered the bedroom where his boys were sleeping-the boys were huddled together still, Sam's chin resting on Dean's shoulder.

He gently got into a free side of the bed and snuggled down, letting Dean fold his body into his own. He put an arm around both his boys and hugged them gently. 'Goodnight boys-sleep tight...' he whispered, before settling down himself-

Tomorrow they would be long gone from this place, and everything that had happened would be mere memories to them all.

As he closed his eyes he smiled in the knowledge that his boys were safe. Nothing was going to break up this family. Nothing.

**Oh John...if only it was that easy...**

**Find out in the next chapter what will happen next!**

**Please review!**

**X**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello, I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Onwards...**

John woke the next morning the most calm and relaxed he had felt for quite a while. He smiled into the pillow as the bedside clock ticked away, before he finally sat up, rubbing his bleary eyes with the back of one hand. He stopped and smiled again as he heard Sam and Dean playing in the living room; their happy laughter filling his heart.

He swung his legs out of bed and stood up, stretching fully. He was glad this was all over-today was the day they'd get out of this dump and never look back.

'Morning!' he called through the door as the laughing fell silent for a few seconds; he assumed they had found something more interesting to do now.

He chuckled and went about his morning routine, and once he was washed and dressed he slowly opened the door of his room, smiling as the morning sun caught his eye from the window.

He looked across to the boys, frowning when he saw Dean sat all alone, reading a comic. 'Where's your brother?' he asked, crossing to the kitchen and flicking on the coffee machine.

Dean shrugged and flipped a new page over in his book. 'He went outside, looking for something-dad, where's Mr Chuckles?' Dean asked, his voice low, his wide eyes just peeking over the comic.

John froze as he grabbed a cup from the side-what did he say?

'Uhh, I took care of him.' He settled for, giving his eldest a comforting smile.

Dean slowly sank back into his sitting position, nodding with a weak smile. 'Good, that thing was scary-it wasn't anything, bad? Like the stuff you deal with?' he whispered that last part, making sure Sam didn't overhear.

'No, Nothing like what I deal with...' John hurriedly said-he didn't want to scare the kid any more than he already was.

Dean, however, didn't seem too convinced. 'Alright...but you'd tell me if it was, yeah?'

'Yeah.'

'...Good.'

John sighed, settling down his cup once more before pouring in the coffee; as he put the milk back he peeked out of the ripped curtains to take a look at what Sam was doing. He smiled despite himself as he saw that he was happily playing by the Impala, a little green army man tight in his fist.

He was glad he was nowhere near the little mound he had dug the previous night-this nightmare was over. For good.

'Hey Dean, go get your brother in-we can have breakfast then we can get out of here, okay?' he said, grinning when Dean beamed and quickly ran out of the motel door.

He sipped from his drink as he walked back into the bedroom, before he started dumping his clothes on his bed, ready to be put into the duffel bag.

From behind him came the eager footfalls of excited children, Sam cheering with delight.

As Sam came hurtling into the bedroom John embraced him in a sweeping hug, laughing as Sam tucked his legs in and lifted himself off the ground. 'Wow you're getting heavy buddy!' he grinned, putting Sam back to earth with a small disguised wince.

'Are we really going?' Sam asked, eyes shining.

'We really are kid-why don't you start packing?' John smiled-it seemed Sammy had forgotten all about that damn doll. Good.

'Okay Daddy!' Sam grinned, before racing into his own room, Dean not too far behind.

Xxxx

After breakfast John sent Sam and Dean to pack for real, and he himself went into his bedroom to start throwing things into his bag ready to hit the road.

After throwing in his clothes, toiletries and a few...essentials...he remembered the cardboard box filled with the exorcism books he had kicked under the sofa-that would need to go into the Impala first. He dropped everything else and went to fetch it, tucking it under his arm as he reached for the car key.

'Dean-I'm just going out to the car-keep an eye on Sammy, okay?' he called through the door, getting an unintelligible cry in return, before walking to the door.

He crossed the pavement and quickly made his way to the Impala, but not before sneaking a more detailed peek at the grave of Mr Chuckles-it was undisturbed and still, just the way it should be.

His heart felt a little lighter as he popped the trunk of the Impala, and dumped the box of books right at the back. He patted the car as he put the lid down before making his way back to the motel room, not bothering to look down again at the mound. He wished he had.

As he shut the door he became acutely aware of the new silence in the room-no, that wasn't quite right...it wasn't _completely_ silent, not really...he could hear, getting louder and louder...what was it?

The sound dawned on him and he crossed the room and stopped outside the boy's door. It was...chuckling.

'Boys!' he called, grabbing the handle and flinging the door open. His eyes widened in horror and disbelief as he looked at the sight in front of him.

Dean was curled at the very top of his bed, Sam in his lap once more, fear in two pairs of eyes that seemed to be stuck on one thing.

It was now clear where the laughter was coming from, and as John felt the blood run from his body it started again-

Mr Chuckles was sat in the middle of the room.

'Sam, Dean-I want you to come this way. Now.' John instructed, holding out both hands for his boys to grab.

He realised that this order was futile when Dean point blank shook his head, and Sam curled deeper into his brother. Both their eyes were still stuck on the doll, which had now begun to rock silently back and forth, like a deranged man in a locked room.

'Ok, I'm coming to you.' He said instead. He stepped forwards-as soon as he did, the doll looked straight up, black eyes gleaming with malice.

Sam gasped, frightened tears falling onto his cheeks.

As though the doll had heard him, it slowly turned its terrible head towards Sam-it began crawling towards him on its hands and knees.

'I...Asked...You...Nicely...Sam...' it said; a low, guttural voice that was almost too quiet to hear.

'No...No...' Sam whimpered, pulling Dean's shaking arms in front of his face like a shield.

'Get away from my son!' John yelled, running forwards and grasping the doll with both hands. Sam cried out in abject terror, the young boys face was ashen white, his arms and legs shaking in fear.

What the hell had the doll been saying to him? John was too angry to think about it right now-he had to get rid of the doll.

'STAY HERE!' He roared to the boys, just as the doll began to laugh once more. The noise was now loud and sickening, and it made John want to scream. Enough was now enough-it was time to end things the John Winchester way.

He ran outside once more, but not before making a stop in the trunk of the Impala-he grabbed the salt and lighter fluid, and a pack of matches he had thrown in their from the last hunt.

As the doll continued to manically laugh, its heard turning in different directions, John threw it on the same mound he had buried it in before-the mud was askew, the grass everywhere...it was like it had dug itself out.

'Got to hell!' he roared, dousing the doll in the liquid. To his amazement and horror, it now sounded like the doll was choking on the fluid.

He wasted no time flicking a match into life. 'This is for Sam.' he muttered before dropping it on the doll.

Seconds later, the doll began to scream.

John stumbled away, not wanting to hear it. He ran back into the motel to find Sam and Dean waiting for him, his youngest throwing himself at him so he didn't have to hear the noises from outside.

'Its okay Sammy...I've got you...Shhh...Nothing can hurt you now...' he consoled, reaching out for Dean and enveloping them both in the embrace. They both broke down in his arms, and finally so too did John.

They sat on the floor, crying and sobbing, John pressed against the back of the sofa, his boys tucked safely against his chest, until the screaming finally stopped. Even them Sam didn't want to move-the little boy was shaking too much to even stand up.

'I've got to...I've got to go see...' John muttered, trying to stand up as he wiped his face. Dean took the hint, gently extracting Sam from his father and letting him latch on to him.

'I won't be long.' John promised, his voice thick with emotion that threatened to come out again as he saw Sam sob in his brother's arms. He had to find out what had been happening between Sam and the doll, but he wouldn't do it now-Sam had been through enough.

He slowly walked out of the motel room and into the sunshine of the afternoon; the air didn't seem warm, the birdsong seemed bland and sombre as he walked to the spot where Mr Chuckles lay.

He peered into the spot and allowed himself a small smile as he saw the blackened figure of the doll-its eyes were now gone, soot and ash now covered its colourful body.

This was the end of Mr Chuckles, John felt comfortable in that knowledge as he stepped backwards.

He turned as he heard Dean call his name from inside, and began to walk back to where his family needed him now more than ever-

And he didn't look back.

**What's going to happen next? Find out in the next chapter!**

**Please review!**

**X**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello! This is actually the last chapter of this story-I really hope you've all enjoyed the ride, I know I have enjoyed writing it ^^**

**Enjoy...**

Later that evening, John settled the boys into his bed again, wrapped them up nice and warm with blankets and pillows and put a film on for them. He sat with them as they watched, but not taking in the movie at all-he mind was too busy spinning with all the 'What ifs' and 'Maybes' and all the other possible situations that could have happened if he hadn't dealt with Mr Chuckles in time.

He had left Sammy with that damn thing so many times-what if something had happened and he didn't know about it? By what the thing had said before he cremated it, it seemed it had been asking Sam to do something-what the hell had it been saying to his boy?

He pressed a tired and shaking hand to his face, crushing the heel of it into one of his eye sockets so a burst of light appeared in the darkness. He couldn't deal with this, this had happened to his _family..._.

He stood up and pretended to stretch, if only for the benefit of Dean, who had first seemed alarmed when he had moved, but now settled back, letting Sam's head fall onto his shoulder.

He bent low and gently ruffled their hair with his hands. 'I'm just gonna go in the next room, ok?' he asked. His heart broke when Sam stiffened a little before Dean put a comforting hand on his lower arm.

'Yeah...I'll look after Sammy.' Dean whispered, looking down at his brother.

'Good man.' John said, thumbing Dean's cheek before standing up fully and clearing his throat.

He crossed to the door and opened it, letting some air and light into the gloomy room.

'You want me to leave the door open?' he asked, ready to prop it open so they could see him from where they were on his bed.

Dean shrugged, and Sam said nothing. John tried not to sigh. 'I'll leave it open a little, okay?' he stated, before quietly moving into the next room. He peered guiltily back round the door-they had gone back to watching the movie, with Sam even closer to Dean than before.

John quietly reached up to the top of the cupboard and pulled out the bottle of Scotch he had hidden there the first day they had got here. Now was the right time to use it, he reasoned, as he undid the top and poured some into a glass.

He sat down heavily on the sofa, once again rubbing a hand down his face. He felt sweat and stubble, a combination he had never liked. This hunt-well, it wasn't even a proper hunt...this wasn't _supposed to have happened_, had taken everything from him. It had even hurt his family, something nothing had been able to do since the night Mary had passed.

He choked back a small cry as the image of his wife flashed before his eyes. What would have happened if she wasn't here?

He took a hefty gulp of Scotch to quell his emotion which was rising in his throat.

He winced as the warmth of the alcohol reached the back of his throat, before taking another smaller gulp-drinking wouldn't solve anything, and his boys needed him sober, but he felt a little better now.

'Daddy?'

The small voice startled him slightly, and he quickly put the glass down beside the sofa out of sight as Sam padded towards him, wiping his bleary eyes.

'Hey Buddy-what're you doing?' he said, smiling and opening his arms so the little boy could climb onto his lap.

'I, I wanted to talk to you.' Sam stammered, a small whimper escaping his lips.

John's heart sank, but he closed his arms around his youngest, before smoothing down is unruly hair with one large, gentle hand.

'Alright, go ahead.' He said.

Sam looked at him right in the eyes before turning away. 'I didn't like Mr Chuckles, he was bad.' He said in a small voice.

'I know Sammy, and I'm sorry this happened. Listen, did Mr Chuckles ever tell you to do things, things you didn't want to do?' John said gently. He didn't want to push him too hard; he could see Sam was still scared.

After a while Sam nodded slowly, his big brown eyes filling with tears. John pulled him even closer, rubbing his back comfortingly as the tears began to fall.

'He said I had to...I had to play with him forever! I said I didn't want to...when Dean was mean to him he said he wanted me to hurt Dean-I didn't want to, but he said he'd hurt me if I didn't!' he cried, before burying his face in John's chest, sobbing.

'Hey, hey...its ok-nothing can hurt you or Dean anymore, you hear? I won't let anything happen to you guys ever again.' He spoke into Sam's hair, before kissing the top of his head and rocking the child back and forth on his lap as he cried, tears falling from his own eyes.

After a few minutes Sam hiccoughed and drew back, rubbing his red eyes. He gave his father a small smile, before sitting up straighter.

John smiled back, and rubbed the back of Sam's hand comfortingly with his thumb. 'Sammy, I'm really sorry this happened-but it won't ever happen again.' He said.

'Promise?' Sam said, swallowing thickly as he looked imploringly at his father.

John met his gaze, but inside his heart was pounding-they just wanted stability, a life without danger, or fear...something he couldn't give them. He had to though-he was their father. He would always be there for them, not matter what.

'I promise.' He replied, hugging Sam again. He then stood up, hooking Sam's small hand into his own. 'How about we go back and watch the movie, eh?' he asked, smiling down at Sam, who gave him a small nod. 'Ok buddy, let's go.' He said, leading him into the room, where Dean sat up, eyes wide.

'Sammy, you ok?'

'Yeah.'

'Good.' Dean settled back into position, moving up a little so his dad could move in beside him.

'Hey guys...' he whispered as they all got into place.

'Yeah?' Dean asked, both boys looking at their father.

'I've had an idea-why don't we get outta here, for real?' John asked, watching as Sam nodded, tears filling his eyes again. 'Yes please Daddy.' He said, and John smiled back at the grateful look Dean was giving him.

'Alright-you two get in the car, I'll dump the bags in the trunk, okay?' he said, moving out the bed and leading the two of them out of the bedroom.

He quickly got Sam into his coat and shoes, and pretty soon they were all ready to go.

John walked behind them as Dean led Sam out of the motel in the direction of the Impala-before they got there, however, they had to pass the hole were Mr Chuckles now resided in. Sam gave a small, almost inaudible gasp.

'Go on Sammy, keep walking-he can't hurt you no more.' John promised, putting his arms around his boys as they walked on, Dean craning his neck to get one more glimpse of the mound.

'We'll sleep in the next town, okay? We can go somewhere real nice...' John said, opening the doors for the back and stepping back to let Sam and Dean get in.

As they got in he crossed to the trunk, popping it open for the second time that night, before throwing in two duffels of clothes and one of weapons.

He looked behind him at the mound, and allowed himself a terse smirk. He had won the battle...but not the war. More things would come to test them, he knew, and they all had to be ready.

But not tonight-tonight he had two traumatised, tired and cold children in the back of the Impala, and he intended to do everything in his power to keep them safe.

After all, what else were fathers for?

**The End.**

**Thank you to everyone for reviewing, alerting, and putting this story on your favourites list, it means a lot to me!**

**Please review one last time, I would love to know what you thought of this chapter, and the whole story!**

**Thank you!**

**Happyday girl**

**Xxx **

**A/N- Don't worry, I'm not out of fic ideas yet! Watch this space for another fic coming soon! **

**X **


End file.
